


Everything We Have (And Everything We Don't)

by Muucifer



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Enthusiastic Consent, M/M, Mentioned/Past one-sided John Egbert/Dave Strider, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-19 04:12:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muucifer/pseuds/Muucifer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John visits Dave for a month in Texas. He wasn't expecting to attract the attention of Bro Strider.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything We Have (And Everything We Don't)

“You can crash in Bro’s room for the night, he sleeps on the futon anyway.” Dave was mumbling as he pushed the door open and flicked on the bedroom light, stepping in and out of the way. John walked in and set his stuff down in the corner, away from the clutter as best he could. He glanced around, stuff was all over the place but it was still less messy than the living room or kitchen. Dave would have offered him the floor in his own bedroom but what was available was covered in wires from his turntables and wouldn’t have been very comfortable to sleep on. Gingerly, he kicks a stray smuppet away from his foot and grimaces.

“Are you sure Dave? I don’t want to, uh, intrude. It’s kind of his space, I don’t mind sleeping on the floor somewhere.” Shrugging Dave wanders over to drop onto the bed wedged into the far corner. He shoves a few more multicolored smuppets onto the floor and waves the blue-eyed boy over.

“Chill, it’s fine bro. He’d be even more pissed if he came home drunk and you were on his futon or on the floor near it and he fucking tripped on you.” John perches on the foot of the bed, it’s pretty soft so he scoots a bit farther onto it. “Besides, you’re gunna be here a whole month and I ain’t making your ass sleep on the floor for a month.” Dave reaches over and shoves John’s chest just hard enough to knock him backwards, and he lands with a “oomph” on the covers. There’s a slight twitch of his lips as John pouts at him.

John, in return, rolls over and latches onto the blonde’s waist and yanks him down as well. Flopping his slightly rounded body onto top of Dave’s lanky one, he pins him down and grins. Long arms reach up and dig into his sides, and John lets out an undignified screech and falls away, flailing at Dave’s hands trying to pry them off. He lets out little squeaks and his breath catches in his throat, tears well up in his eyes and he tries to yell mercy but Dave has none of that. Between high pitched laughs he manages to gasp out, “I’m gunna piss!” and Dave relents, finally pulling away. He has a genuine smile, and laughs at John’s flushed face covered in tears.

His bottom lip pops out and his big teeth rest on it, mock glaring at the older boy. “Dave not cool. Tickling hurts bro.”John sits up and fixes his glasses, looking down at the rumpled bed he huffs. Dave ruffles his hair into a bigger mess, then stands up. Adjusting his aviators, the tall boy nods towards the door.

“Alright stop your whining, lets go do something that doesn’t involve you threatening to piss on everything I own.” Turning to leave he waves the smaller boy after him. So John pops up and follows after him, stumbling a few times over his own feet.

They spread out on the couch, a bowl of popcorn wedged between them and a stack of Dave’s shitty (ironic) movies piled up next the the T.V. Six hours and four movies later, John’s falling asleep on the arm of the couch and Dave’s shaking him awake. John wobbles up, bids Dave goodnight- but it’s a bit more a slurred “g’night”- and heads to bed. After a quick stop at the bathroom, he’s curling into the thin sheets on Bro’s bed and can’t help but notice they smell pretty clean, but have a slight scent of musk or aftershave. Not overwhelming or strong like his Dad’s and certainly not as bad smelling, on the contrary; it soothes him and makes everything feel warm. It’s something manly that he can’t pinpoint, but his sleep addled brain doesn’t care and relaxes into it. Slowly he dozes off.

.:..:..:.

John’s awoken some time later by the door slamming against the wall. Sitting up just the slightest he sees a tall, muscled figure in the doorway and has a brief freak out that someone broke in, Dave’s dead, and he’s going to die next. Then he spots the silhouette of a cap and a pair of pointy shades and calms back down. He’s never met him, but there’s no doubt that this is Bro. As he comes to that conclusion said man shuts the door and takes three long strides to the bed. John yelps as the bed suddenly dips and he bounces on the mattress from the weight of a much heavier person falling onto the edge.

“Kid, what’re ya doin’ in my bed?” Bro’s voice, he realises, is quite nice. It’s low and rumbles but isn’t rough at all, despite the thick accent, and in fact is very smooth. The faint smell of alcohol accompanies his words though, and he’s slurring a bit. His body is really hot though, literally, and John can feel the warmth rolling off of him. Still, this is awkward and he rolls a bit more towards the wall.

“Uh, Dave he told me, uh, I could sleep in here.” His own voice isn’t as attractive, heavy with sleep and dry, his throat scratches a bit. “He said you’d sleep on the futon, uhm, obviously not but, it’s not- it’s fine I’ll go sleep elsewhere.” Saying so, he moves to get up and off the bed, but Bro slings a thick arm over his middle and drops him back down. For a minute he doesn’t say anything, and John thinks he’s fallen asleep. Pressing his hands into the mattress, he slides out from under the arm and goes to leave again.

“Spilled my beer on the futon. It’s wet. Too tired t’ get a towel. Might ‘s well sleep ‘ere kid, ain’ no where else ‘sides the floor.” To reinforce his point he tightens his arm around John’s middle and forces him to lay down again. “I won’ do anythin’ to ya, promise.” John wiggles in his hold, but he’s too much cake not enough strife. Sighing, he makes himself comfortable by shimmying the sheet off since Bro’s a heater and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to let go anytime soon. “G’night kid.” Is muttered next to his ear, and warm breath runs over his face. The smell of beer is strong now, and John decides he must be really drunk.

Closing his eyes, he tries to drift off again. But his mind lingers on the heat flooding around him and the way, every once in awhile, the arm hanging onto him squeezes just a bit. Bro’s a possessive sleeper, and eventually John’s pressed tight to his side. Long fingers grasp at the thin fabric of his nightshirt and trail down his side. John’s breath catches in his throat, and he turns a bit to look up at Bro’s face. He’s got a chiseled jaw and solid cheekbones. There’s nothing soft about how he looks, and his stubble scratches John’s forehead just the slightest. However, pale eyelashes are splayed across his cheeks- visible because his shades have been pushed up towards the top of his head in his sleep- and they are a bit feminine in contrast to the thick but well maintained sideburns. Everything about him seems so manly but not at all rugged.

John reaches up tentatively, not wanting to get his fingers snapped, and slips his hand into the gelled spikes peeking out from under the grey cap. Twisting one between his fingers, he smiles just the slightest. Then he pulls back and curls into a ball as best he can into the older male’s side, praying for sleep to come. The warmth surrounding him and the quiet drumming of Bro’s heart and the soft breathing noises he makes have the young male slipping into sleep blissfully quick. John’s dreams are plagued by tall, muscled blondes and their dorky (ironic) pointed anime shades.

.:..:..:.

Once again, John finds himself blinking blearily awake. This time however, there is an overwhelming heat pressing against him. It’s nearly suffocating, so with a groan he rolls out from the arm hanging onto him. The man next to him mumbles in his sleep and reaches for John again, but he scurries off the bed before Bro can get ahold of him. Blue eyes watch the man sprawled out on the mattress, detailing as much as he can. Now that the boy can see clearly, Bro is even more attractive. He’s muscled but certainly not over built. They’re pulled taunt and are defined, but not bulky. Wide shoulders taper into a fairly narrow waist and his pants leave... nothing to the imagination, John will give him that. Feeling his face flush, he pulls his eyes away from a choice rump and scrambles out of the room into the bathroom.

After his morning ritual, he wanders into the living room and after investigating, realises the couch is indeed still damp and reeks of stale, cheap beer. John places a thick towel over the spot then plops down and busies himself with turning on the T.V. After a time consuming battle with their remote, he gets it on and to a movie channel. It’s playing some shitty B movie on the sci-fi channel but he gives up and settles back to wait for Dave to get up. A quick glance at his phone confirms that he woke up early, as usual at home, and he makes a note to try to sleep longer tomorrow. He knew it was a fruitless attempt today though, there was no way he could have fallen back asleep with that heat and seeing Bro in good light.

Around noon, Dave slumps out into the living room as well, his hair a tangled mess and glasses askew on his face. There’s a red mark on his cheek from where John assumes he had his hand while he slept. Acknowledging the small boy on the couch, he shuffles into the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a bottle of apple juice. Then he disappears into the hallway again. John hears the shower turn on, then turn off, and eventually Dave returns, looking sleek and styled as always.

“Yo. Where’s Bro?” The blonde nods towards the couch, “No way in hell he’d let you wake him up and make him go to the bedroom so you could watch T.V.” His face tilts down, indicating that he noticed the towel wedged under John’s butt. Instead of walking around the couch, Dave ninja rolls over the top and lands next to John, looking for all the world like he had just leisurely strolled and sat down. Draping his arm over the back he turns his head to watch John, or so he figured. It was always kind of hard to tell with those black glasses.

“Oh, uh he spilled beer on the couch last night,” He pats the towel beside his thigh, “And then he came in his room and kind of just fell asleep next to me. He’s kind of a clingy drunk isn’t he?” Pale lips twitch, and John would have missed it if he hadn’t been so used to Dave’s facial expressions. That was a frown. “It’s fine he didn’t do anything and I was in his room so it wasn’t his fault!” John flails his hands while he’s explaining, because it wasn’t Bro’s fault and he really, really did not mind.

“Alright bro, if you say so. I’d strife him to protect your womanly virtue, we all know how pure you are. Pure as crisp bed sheets in a nunnery, even those nuns won’t fucking touch you like ‘woah bro those are the sheets of god you can’t touch them’ they put baby fucking Jesus himself to shame they’re so pure.”

“Dave shut up, I don’t have womanly virtue. Besides, I don’t mind. I didn’t need sheets last night, Bro’s a fucking heater.” Big blue eyes roll and Dave gasps, slapping a hand over his mouth and mock offense.

“Dude no, you have all of the womanly virtue. All of it.” Dave relaxes again, slumping into the corner and scoffs. “And duh, Bro’s fucking solid meat, there ain’t any fat on that. He weighs a fucking ton. Burnin’ all that fucking energy he’s going to be a huge fucking heavy furnace.” For the first time in a long time, Dave isn’t just making fun of Bro or talking about how shitty his puppets were or anything, he goes back to when he was young and admired Bro. John smiles, it’s nice. Even though Dave bitches about him, it’s obvious that he still looks up to his brother’s shitty (ironic) ways.

But then again, built like that, John’s quite fond of Bro already. They’d discussed sexuality when Dave started dating some kid from school. John had talked to him a couple of times, he was a lispy bastard and had hacked his computer from Texas while John was in Washington. Sollux was weird and an asshole. Pretty much exactly the type of person John expected Dave to get with. He hadn’t been expecting a “him” though. The next few months were spent vehemently denying he was into boys and eventually Dave got pissed off. Legitimately mad at him. And John realised; yeah he kind of liked boys. A lot. Dave specifically. But Dave was happy with Sollux and John noticed too late and was just being an ass about it because he was jealous. Things were a bit awkward after that, but eventually things leveled out and they were cool again.

Apparently, John liked blondes with shitty swords, dumb glasses, and a loose definition of ironic.

Also, Dave seemed to have noticed John had gotten lost in his thoughts and was staring at him over his shades. His red eyes were a bit unnerving, and then he quirked an eyebrow. “Yo, earth to Egderp. You there bro?” John blinks, then laughs.

“Haha sorry Dave I was just thinking about stuff!” So he says, but John’s face still feels a bit hot and he can’t help but be unnerved that Dave knew exactly what he was thinking about. Specifically that John had been vividly imagining Bro’s butt. And all the things he’d like to do with said butt. Like see if he could bounce a quarter off of it. He’s positive if he tried the quarter would shoot right back off like it hit a force field.

Shaking his head to clear it of thoughts about quarters and a fine ass, he beams at Dave. It feels a bit forced but the Texan doesn’t seem to notice as he turns back to the T.V.

“I was gunna go hang with Sollux and Rez for a while today, wanna come with?” Rez, John figures, must be Terezi. Dave had talked about asking her out before, but then he got with Sollux. They still seemed to be close friends, though. Not wanting to deal with either of them today, and still suffering of jet-lag, John shakes his head.

“Nah, go hang out with them, I’ll come along some other time. I think I’m gunna hang around here, I’m still not used to everything.” Dave raises that damn eyebrow again. “I just went from 60 degree weather to 90. Also it’s a lot more dry here than there, it’s a hell of a lot more sunny, and I’m in a different time zone. Dave, I promise, I’ll come some other time, but today sounds like a good day to relax.” John smiles at him, encouraging.

“Alright dude. But they’re gunna want to meet you, don’t think you can hide for long. Rez’s blind but she’ll sniff you out like a slobbery fucking bloodhound.” Dave focuses back on the T.V. and John leans back onto the armrest again and they continue in silence.

.:..:..:.

Around two, Dave stands up and starts milling about. He hunts down his phone, keys, and finally he grabs his shoes then sits down on the couch again. Untying them and shoving them on he ignores John’s stares until he’s done. Then he cocks his head at him and watches him right back. John smiles, those big front teeth popping over his lips and he looks much younger, not at all like the fifteen-year old Dave knows. But Dave had been blessed by puberty, he was all long limbs and lean muscles, years of strifing Bro ensured that. John on the other hand was still short, and had soft rounded features. His stomach was rounded just the slightest, and he had baby fat still. John wasn’t chubby by any means, just still childish in appearance. Sighing a bit, Dave rolled up onto his feet and headed towards the door.

“Okay dude I’m out of here, told ‘em I’d meet em at two. I’ll be back ‘round seven. Don’t get buried under plush velvety rumps while I’m gone, I don’t think I could explain that to your Dad. ‘Sorry sir I don’t know what happened one minute he was there and then there was a mountain of plush, round ass and phallic shapes. I did everything I could but he was still covered in pieces of multi-colored fabric and ever since then his eyes have been glazed over like he saw hell and now he’s trapped there. We could try to help but I think he’s lost, sir. Nothing can be done, he just wasn’t cut out for the Strider life.’”

“Dave shut up. I’ll be fine.” John flicks a hand in the air, trying to shoo Dave out of the apartment. The red-eyed boy gives a single wave, then disappears out the door. Waiting for a few moments, deciding Dave hadn’t forgot anything, John sprawls across the couch and returns to the movie.

For the next half hour or so, John gradually loses interest in the shitty sci-fi movies and starts to explore the apartment. At first, he walks over to the computer in the corner. Dave’s is in his room so this must be Bro’s. He nudges the mouse, and the sign in screen pops up. He lets out a rather startled laugh and then continues to chuckle until he finds interest elsewhere. He pointedly avoids the large turntable set up, only letting his eyes linger on it. Smuppets are a key item in the apartment.

They’re everywhere.

John trips on a rather unamused orange one near the kitchen. Stooping down he plucks it up, careful to not touch anything other than its arm. It’s big googly eyes stare at him. He quickly sets it back down and darts into the kitchen.

And promptly almost spears himself in the face with a sword. He sidles around it, and steps in farther. Eying the cupboards and table, shitty swords hidden everywhere. Or not hidden. There’s plenty just lying around. He pokes at the fireworks in the sink, and glances at the ones in the dishwasher with distaste. How did Dave ever survive here as a child?

Opening the refrigerator almost gets him killed as a whole assortment of swords tumble out. A surprised squawk rips from his throat as he flails backwards, landing on his ass as they clatter to the floor between his legs. John shakily sighs in relief, glad he didn’t lose an appendage or two. Looking at the mess on the floor and the tiny fridge though he wasn’t sure how they all fit in there, how he’s even supposed to get them back in, or even if he’s supposed to put them back. Eventually he stands up, slides the pile out of the way, and shuts the fridge door. The place was a wreck anyway, and if Bro really wants them back in the fridge he can do it.

Deeming it too dangerous to continue his exploration of the Strider apartment, he ventures back to the futon and returns to trying to work their remote. Managing to get it on a channel playing cartoons, he perches there to wait. But he’s thirsty. So he goes back to the kitchen. Sidestepping around everything laying about, he gets to a cupboard that doesn’t seem too suspicious. Cracking it open slightly, nothing comes flying out so he opens it the rest of the way. A few measly glasses are tipped upside down in it, so he snatches one and goes to the sink. Glass of water in hand, he lays back down on the couch.

Until the door down the hallway squeaks open and Bro’s standing in the entryway to the living room. John darts up and watches him wide eyed. He looks... nice. Unlike Dave, Bro probably just rolled out of bed looking that good. His hat isn’t twisted or crumpled, hair is spiked perfectly underneath it, shirt tucked neatly into the top of his pants. Bro’s glasses are too dark to even guess where he’s looking. But he nods the slightest bit at John then disappears.

He reappears next to John on the couch a second later with a glass of water and a couple of pills. John shrieks and falls off the futon. It was the most girly noise he’s ever made, and John doesn’t miss the way Bro’s eyebrow twitches just the smallest amount. Picking himself off the floor, he watches Bro down the pills and the whole glass of water. Well, he watches the water dribble down his chin and over his throat and the way his Adams apple bobs and it gives John’s all sorts of ideas.

“Hey kid, you must be John right?” Bro’s voice has lost almost all trace of the drawl from last night, but it’s still deep and smooth. John nods slowly, watching the man through thick black lashes. “Sorry ‘bout last night.”

“Uhm, it’s fine, really. I was in your room! We should have let you know, or something. Uhm...” He shifts nervously, wiggling his hips on the worn material of the futon. John can’t see them, but he feels like those eyes are boring into him. “You’re just, uh, very clingy!” Dropping his eyes to his hands, he wrings them in his lap. His face feels warm and John sincerely hopes Bro doesn’t notice.

Bro smirks, then buries his large hand in John’s nest of hair and rubs. The little male yelps and tries to push Bro away. “Calm down kid, I ain’t going to strife you just ‘cause you were in my bed. If I hadn’t been drinking, hell, that would have been a very nice surprise.” John doesn’t miss the implication of those words, and his face darkens a few more shades. The huge male pulls back and stretches across the couch, causing John to curl into the corner in embarrassment. “So what’re ya watching kid?”

John scrambles to find the remote and lops it across the futon from his corner, blinking widely when Bro merely catches it without turning his head. His voice isn’t working anymore, and he can’t look up without getting a look at all that muscle stretched under too-tight clothes, making his own clothes too tight. So he tucks his face down between his shoulders and murmurs, “Cartoons but you can change it.”

Bro flicks through the channels- John makes a mental note to ask Dave how the hell their remote works- and settles on another cartoon show. It’s about ponies or something, John knows it’s a big show but he can’t think of the name. Bro looks happy in his own way, so he doesn’t question it. A thick silence settles over the room, not uncomfortable but peaceful.

.:..:..:.

After the episode Bro turns to look at him,and John feels his face heat back up under the gaze. “Kid you got to be hungry, bet your Dad feels you really healthy stuff, don’t he? Let’s go get somethin’ to eat.” John ducks his head into a nod, he was really hungry. He hadn’t eaten since the day before when his plane had landed. Dave had taken him to a greasy pizza place a couple blocks from the apartment on their way back. At Bro’s lead, he gets off the couch and puts his shoes on. John bounces on the balls of his feet by the door, waiting for Bro. The man hadn’t even taken his shoes off, so what was taking so long?

Then Bro’s standing next to him watching him expectantly and John turns to rush out of the apartment, forgetting that the door is still, in fact, shut tightly and smashes his face into it. Groaning he clasps his nose and rests his sore forehead against the cheap wood surface. Large fingers curl over his shoulder and turn him around, tilting his head back and carefully pulling the small hands away from his face. John tries to search his hands for blood but can’t tell if there is or not. Bro’s poking and prodding at him, and John’s breath hitches in his throat. He’s really close. Unnecessarily close. Their breaths pool in the small space and they’re sharing air, he notices. Finally Bro pushes his bangs back and after a quick check of his forehead he pulls back.

“Didn’t break nothing kid, you’re fine, not even bleeding. That had to have hurt like a bitch though. You’re so soft.” John jolts when two fingers pinch his cheeks softly, and he slaps Bro away. He stills suddenly and stares wide-eyed at the man, who just watches him back, one pale line creeping up over his glasses. Then he smirks again and spins John back around, leaning around him to open the door. John almost passes out, forgetting how to breathe. Bro’s breath is on his neck, his arms are around him, and that sculpted chest is pressed slightly against his shoulders. Then he stands back up and everything’s gone. John’s knees go a little weak and he catches himself on the door frame.

They leave the apartment, and walk down the stairs, Bro leading the way. Blue eyes train on a taut ass clad in black, watching it shift up and down with each step. After reaching the ground floor, John follows him to the parking garage. There, they get in a beat up, old truck. Bro watches him put his seatbelt on, then puts his own on. “So where you wanna go, kid? I ain’t going to make you pay.”

John stares at the dashboard with all the intensity of the sun and shrugs. “Wherever you want, but uhm... I guess something not take-out would be nice...” He figured he’d better throw that part in, the takeout boxes littered around the Strider house kind of turned him off from it. Risking a glance, he peeks up at Bro, who’s just staring at him passively. He nods slowly, like he’s considering saying no, but doesn’t. John hazards a smile now, and Bro’s face softens a bit.

“Alright kid, guess this is a date then.” John chokes on air and splutters at him, mouth flopping open in a nice rendition of a fish. “I like this place a few blocks over, take Davey there on his birthday or shit, sometimes.” John takes a gulp of lost air and giggles at that. The truck backs out of the space and they’re on the road before long. He can still feel the heat in his face from the “date” and keeps repeating to himself that it was a joke, a prank, and he’s just embarrassed his prankster's gambit was punched.

Soon enough they pull into a parking lot for a small restaurant. It’s some Italian place, and despite being small, isn’t dingy or cheap looking. Stepping out of the truck, Bro’s around to his door before John can hop out. He opens the door like a gentleman and John’s cheeks color again, then he almost dies when Bro offers his hand. Staring at it, he hesitates, then places his own tiny fingers on Bro’s tan palm. His hand wraps around and tugs him down out of the vehicle. Bro’s other hand catches his waist as he lands. Then he lets go and steps back.

John’s too ashamed to look around and see if anyone noticed, so he drops his head and follows the older male’s ankles into the building. They get a small table and order their drinks. Looking over the menu, he’s pleased that it’s not an expensive place with a peaceful atmosphere. Small children mill about by their parents, and the servers strike up polite conversation.

“Are you sure it was okay to come without Dave? I don’t think he’s eaten either.” The waitress takes their food order when she brings their drinks, and with a chirpy “Okay!” she’s gone again.

“Little shit will eat with his friends, it’s cool.” The blonde male’s leaning back in his chair, watching John through the pointy shades. It’s odd how he keeps watching him, liking he’s dissecting the boy with his eyes.

Bro doesn’t talk much in public, he realises. And John’s too nervous to fill in the silence. Everything about the man makes him self-conscious. So they sit in a painful silence until the waitress- who John notices keeps side-eying Bro with a shy grin- brings them their food. Eating makes it less noticeable that they can’t hold a conversation, and it finally settles into a comfortable quiet. The sound of silverware clinking on plates fills the void nicely. She comes back all too soon, and now she’s batting her mascaraed eyelashes at Bro, but he pays her no mind. The two of them agree to split some sort of chocolaty dessert, John making sure to say he won’t eat much so they might as well share one. Bro gives him a pointed look and John flushes under the gaze, shrugging helplessly.

Pretty soon they’re digging into a chocolate brownie topped in ice cream. Well, the boy is, Bro pokes at it and eats a few nibbles. John’s not too shocked that Bro doesn’t seem like sweets very much, but gives him a small smile anyway. He notices, and the takes a bigger scoop and stuffs it in John’s mouth, then takes another scoop for himself. A pale face suddenly flashes red, and John stumbles over the thought that holy shit he just had an indirect kiss with Dave’s Bro. Apparently he notices this too because the next second he’s smirking around the spoon and rolling it off his tongue, making sure to follow it out of his mouth and flick the curve of the metal with the tip of the pink muscle.

A full body shudder wracks John and he has to look away, excusing himself to the bathroom. He almost falls over himself on the way there and slams the stall door shut, but his hands are shaking too bad to get the lock done. He takes three very large, calming breaths and finally locks the door. John presses his now barely sweaty back to the cool material and slumps to the floor. Daring a look down, he notices the tent forming and groans. The boy bangs his head back against the door and wills it away. Not surprisingly, it doesn’t.

John slides one hand over the material and he whimpers, pressing a bit harder. Cupping his hand around himself, he palms his dick through the material. Rolling his head back he pants softly into the silence. His other hand begins to undo his pants,sliding them down around his hips along with his boxers. Skin to skin he’s touching himself and gasping for air all alone in a public restroom. He feels dirty, but he’s not about to stop. The hand not wrapped around his dick pushes his shirt up, and tweaks one of his nipples. Whining he drops his head forward now, watching himself. Eyes slamming shut he imagines it was the blonde with the douchebag hat and pointed shades touching him.

How warm his hands would be as they wind around his body, holding him close to the solid chest. His hands are so large, he could probably wrap them around the boy’s hips and have his fingertips touch each other. A low keen rips from his throat as he pictures Bro’s hand trapping his cock and milking him. The fingers toying with his chest slide into his mouth, and he sucks them, coating them in saliva. They trail down his stomach and over his hips, reaching back he rubs his perineum and mewls, rocking backwards into his own hand and upward into the other. Finally he grazes his entrance, rolling his fingertips around it, covering the pucker in his own drool. Just as he pushes his first finger into himself, he dips his thumb into the slit of his dick and pushes his hips backwards, forcing the finger in himself in one swift move.

The main door swings open. He coughs as he swallows a scream and clocks his head against the door again. “Kid what the hell are you doing in here?” Of fucking course it had to be Bro. And of course, instead of causing his boner to shrivel up, it pulses. “You said you had to go to the bathroom, you didn’t say you came to die in here.” He rams another finger inside and continues bouncing on them, his other hand flying up and down.

So close. His eyes roll into the back of his head and he whimpers pitifully. “Kid? Hey, John?” Holy fuck. Everything goes white and he bite his lip so hard it bleeds. He crooks his fingers buried in his hole and squeezes the ones around his cock. In the back of his mind it registers that he can feel something sticky coat his stomach. When his vision comes back he’s collapsed in a heap against the door and panting harshly. Soft vibrations pound through his head as knuckles rap the door on the other side. “Get cleaned up and get out here you little shit.” Bro doesn’t sound mad, actually he can hear the smirk in his voice, but John’s heart jumps into his throat. He knew. Oh god he knew. And worse yet Bro probably knew that John was thinking of him and finished because his name of those lips was. Wow.

His legs are quaking when he pushes himself up and wads up toilet paper. Wiping his stomach down as best he can, he scowls at the mess, then flushes it down the toilet. The fingers around the latch are shaking so hard he can barely get it undone, and when he does he almost passes out because Bro’s still out there looking at him and smirking and he knew. Turning the sink on is a chore, and eventually Bro slips around him and flicks it on for him. Then he rests his huge hand on the fleshy part of John’s hip. Big blue eyes peer into the mirror and he whines; Bro’s cheeks are dusted red too and he’s got a dangerous edge to his face. Tan fingers dig into his skin and he gasps, then his body is pulled back into the heat surrounding the muscled body behind him.

There’s a definite bump pressed against his spine and he mewls, pressing against it. Then it’s gone and he’s cold again. Bro’s standing by the door, watching John as he stares dumbly back. The teen hurries up and scurries after him, knocking into his back a few times when Bro purposely slows down. That all knowing smirk never once leaves his face.

After paying the bill, Bro takes him home. John doesn’t hear from him for the rest of the night. The man barely acknowledges him. Just a quick nod here or there when he leaves his room to get a glass of water or something from the living room. Dave comes home eventually, and the two of them make a nest on the futon, spending quality bro time together. When they get ready to go to sleep, Dave taps on Bro’s door and the older male comes out, says goodnight, then flops onto the couch. John slips into the bedroom and curls up on the sheets. Bro’s scent has creeped into the fabric, and the teen tries to absorb it as well. Surrounding himself in the musk, he once again dreams of a handsome Texan with a drawl.

.:..:..:.

A week goes by of John seeing very little of Bro; just fleeting hellos and waves. Sometimes, he brings the two teens food but most of the time, if he’s in the apartment he’s locked in his room. Others, he leaves at night and doesn’t come back until early in the morning. Dave tells John that it’s his DJing gigs, and John asks if they could go but Dave always brushes him off with, “Why go see his old ass spin when you got a young, attractive hunk like me who’d spin his ass on a platter for you?” So John settles for glimpses of the man when he appears.

During that week, John and Dave go around the city. To parks and cafes, landmarks and hangout spots. Strider brings his camera and documents all of it, mostly of the two of them taking horrible selfies in the areas they visit. He’s also introduced to Dave’s school friends. They all meet up in a park near Dave’s building; Terezi, Gamzee (whom John had heard very little of, but he kind of freaks him out), and Sollux.

When they come into view, he expects Sollux to be the first one he sees, but it’s Terezi. She’s short, pointy and very much a redhead. She tackles him, licks his face all over, cackles at him, then bounces back and shoves a thin, pasty blonde with two different colored eyes at him. He doesn’t say much, just nods at him and then steps next to Dave who wraps an arm around him, squeezes, then pulls back. The other guy, Gamzee, is huge and lanky. John thought Dave was freakishly skinny for his height, but Gamzee towers over Dave and is scrawny, he doesn’t even have any muscle to bulk him out a bit. They spend the day together, the five of them, and then once it’s dark Terezi and Gamzee leave together and Sollux follows Dave and John back to the apartment.

After that, once in awhile Sollux would come over and chill with them at the apartment or wander around town with them. John also made a point to go with Dave when he met up with his friends. It keeps him focused on things besides Bro ignoring him.

Then one day Dave says he’s going on a date. The dark haired boy nods, and wishes him luck. Dave asks if he’ll be fine pretty much alone since Bro keeps pulling his disappearing act. John rolls his eyes and says of course. He secretly hopes the older blonde will make himself less scarce once Dave’s not around. So after Dave gets ready (John’s shocked that he actually makes an effort to look classy, and gets punched for stating so) and with a single wave he’s gone out the door saying he’ll be back in five hours tops.

It’s not even ten minutes later when Bro struts out of his room and collapses on the couch next to John. The younger male licks his lips, staring him down through his fringe of hair. Anime shades stay pointed directly at the T.V. but his hand drapes over the back of the futon, brushing John’s ear lightly. The single touch steals his air and John gasps as a full body shudder rolls down him. He can see now that fiery orange eyes are watching him from his peripheral and makes a point to pin them down with his own gaze. His thighs bunch the material of the futon as he slides over until they’re touching muscled, black clothed ones. Bro’s smirking again, this time his fingers brush the back of John’s neck and finger the small hairs there.

“Wow kid, eager much? I thought gettin’ off in the bathroom of a family restaurant was needy.” There’s no venom in his voice, and John blushes so pretty for him. The hand toying with his hair snaps to his waist and hoists him up, depositing him onto the best set of thighs that have ever graced his ass with their presence. They clench and ripple under his weight and he whines. “Your ass is so soft, that is one choice plump rump. Daddy’s a baker ain’t he?” John tosses his arms around Bro’s broad shoulders and grinds himself down onto Bro’s crotch.

The fingers that had been sensually rubbing the smooth skin pulled over his hips suddenly dig in, nails and all, and John knows he’s going to have bruises. Thinking about it makes him tuck his face into the tan neck and keen as he continues to roll down on the forming lump below him. Bro twists the boy so John’s straddling him and wow pressure was a great thing. John pulls back and stares at the reflection of his own face in those glasses. Their pants swirl together and it’s suffocating but not enough.

They’re kissing. Bro’s mouth covering his own, sucking all of John’s breath away. He’s hard and solid everywhere but here. Those thin, stretched lips are silky on his own, they aren’t full and they are a little chapped but it’s perfect, John thinks. Bro nibbles his plump lower lip, dying it red with blood when it cracks a little but the flavor adds to the kiss and John can’t be bothered with the pain. Then that pink muscle is in his mouth and Bro’s tongue is everywhere at once. It runs over the roof of his mouth, strokes his own tongue, coaxes it into play and they twine together, it runs over his teeth and dips down against his gums.

A little bit of drool dribbles down John’s chin and Bro darts to lick that up as well, nipping the pale skin there. He nibbles his way up to John’s ear, and tugs the lobe between his teeth, sliding his tongue into the shell, lapping at it. Bro works his way down the creamy expanse of flesh on John’s throat, biting down harshly at the juncture where it meets his shoulder. Little gasps suddenly turns into a groan and John twitches at the teeth, but is pacified when the sore spot is kiss tenderly. He does this again on his collarbone, sucking hard until the skin is in his mouth then letting it go with a pop and soothing over it, coating it in cooling saliva.

Tan hands push the soft fabric of John’s shirt up, exposing the soft packet of babyfat on his stomach. The teen pulls back and looks away in shame, crossing his arms over it. But Bro takes the boy’s fingers and uncrosses his arms, pulling each wrist up to his mouth where he kisses them softly. John still won’t look at him, though, so he places the hands on his shoulders and reaches up, taking ahold of his shades, and pulls them off. Baby blues stare at him as he sets the glasses on the table, holding John tightly while he leans forward and then relaxes back into the couch. If he’d have known how dull those glasses made John’s eyes look, he would have taken them off earlier. They were vibrant; sky blue and sea blue pooling together and practically glowing. Nothing could ever do this justice, the Texan thinks.

John on the other hand, is fighting to get his lungs to work because Bro, who never shows any emotion and never, ever takes his dorky (ironic) pointed shades off is doing both. He probably doesn’t even realise his face has softened into one of adoration, eyebrows curved the slightest and his lips twitch into a sweet smile. And his eyes. Oh god his eyes. Dave’s were lava red and boiled in passion, but Bro’s were the color of melted amber and twinkled in mischief. John felt him peering into his very being with them, but despite everything they were a heartwarming color and they were for him only.

This time, when John leans forward and their lips touch, it’s gentle and sweet, slow and careful. There’s a lot of unspoken words pouring from one into the other. Words of trust and affection. It’s a huge jump from the heat and need before and John smiles into the kiss. His small hands clasp behind Bro’s shoulders and he presses their chests together. Both hearts beat against each other for a moment, until the older male pulls back and peppers smaller kisses over John’s face. The act is oddly intimate and John hides his face and Bro’s throat, taking the chance to suckle on the skin and leave his own red marks.

Large hands massage his sides and continue to nudge the shirt up, finally tugging it off completely. John shivers at the cool the envelopes him despite Bro’s hands covering his chest. One hand slides around his back and skitters up and down his spine, making him squeak and plop onto the heavy chest in front of him. That hand dares a bit lower to grope his butt, and at his whimper, begins kneading it. Bro makes an appreciative noise and gives it a tense slap, feeling it jiggle. John mewls, fingers clutching at Bro’s shirt and shakes his butt as best he can, getting a rewarding smack on the other side.

He’s being lifted into strong arms, blinking once then they’re in Bro’s room on the bed. It makes him a bit queasy, but he just nuzzles the man’s chest and closes his eyes. Determined to get Bro undressed though, he peeks up at him, then darts down to pull the white polo out. John works as quickly as he can, sliding it up over Bro and flinging it off the bed once he could. He latches his mouth to the tight skin exposed now, licking it from the sternum to one pert nipple. Bro groans, the noise vibrates through his chest into John’s mouth. Swirling his tongue around the bud, he tugs it with his teeth carefully then moves to the other, trying to give it the same attention.

Tracing his tongue over Bro’s abs, he slides down on the floor between the Texan’s thighs. John nibbles here and there, sucking dark red blotches on the gold skin. His tongue darts into the bellybutton nestled in the center. He can feel the brief jerk of Bro’s body under his fingertips, pressed against the V shape above his pant line. John noses the platinum happy trail, finally reaching his goal at the man’s belt buckle.

John’s fingers refuse to be steady as he works the device, Bro notices and begins to help, tucking the belt off in one swift move. He leaves John to the button and zipper of his pants, but when tentative fingers grasp at it, Bro sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth. Eventually though, those are undone too and the blue-eyed boy is staring at the thick tent in his boxers. Nibbling at his lip, his buckteeth working the flesh until it broke again, he gives one shy look up at Bro through his cute lashes. Then he places one hand on the inside of a tense thigh, and the other lightly over the lump. Squeaking but not jumping back as it twitches under his fingers, he presses just the slightest bit harder. Bro sighs in relief, reaching down to curl his hand over John’s and uses the boy’s hand to palm himself.

Getting bolder in his actions, John takes over and works Bro into full-mast. Before he can do much more, though, Bro’s pulling him back into his lap and kissing him dizzy. His shorts are being shoved off his hips, but he can’t seem to care and even tries to help with their removal, lifting his ass away from the man’s lap. They’re gone and so are his boxers, leaving him bare and open. He curls into his own arms and hides his face, it’s short lived however, when he’s dumped unceremoniously in the middle of the bed. Curious, he sneaks a glance at Bro and sees him yanking off his pants and boxers as well, then rummaging through the bedside table. John can’t see what he pulls out and forgets to ask because Bro’s back on the bed and John can stare at his body.

Taking his time, John soaks in all the details of him totally naked. His gaze sure fierily avoids Bro’s crotch though, until he can’t anymore. He takes a look and moans, low and long. One side, he’d been hoping maybe Bro wasn’t going to be that big down there and it wouldn’t hurt as bad to get fucked into the mattress. Other side, John maybe, kind of, really wanted him to be big because he wanted to feel it. And god was he going to feel it. The glint of metal caught his eye, he had a ladder. That was unexpected. His fingers are wrapping around it but he’s not thinking anymore except that they didn’t reach all the way around and wow. Suddenly he was having a much harder time breathing.

It throbs under his touch and he whimpers, sliding his hand down and squeezing the base. But one gloved hand grabs his and pulls it away. “I don’t know how far-” John cuts him off with his lips. The distraction works because he’s moving Bro’s fingers behind him and pressing against his hole. “You’re kind of tiny?” A needy noise crawls out of his throat and Bro seems to get the hint, because suddenly there’s a bottle of lube and holy shit was that cold. Thick fingers circle his entrance, brushing against his perineum and putting the smallest amount of pressure he ever thought possible. He rocks backwards, trying to get Bro inside of him, but the man just chuckles and pulls back.

“Oh my god I am not going to break please just fu-ah!” His voice is cut off by a high pitched keen and he arches his back off the bed, shoving his hips down and that finger in to the knuckle. It’s just one but he feels full around it, while it wriggles around inside of him. Bro kisses his temple, and caresses his inside walls. And there’s two now but it’s stills seems too much but not enough. All sort of praises spill from his mouth until those fingers scissor and he screams. John’s vision is hazy and he’s clawing into Bro’s back, there’s a thin trail of drool leaking and he’s sure he’s not at all attractive in that moment but as long as Bro doesn’t stop twisting and pounding him with his hand he could care less.

“Man kid, you’re tight I don’t think this is going to work” Bro’s chuckle hums around his ear. He says that, but then he’s pushing a third finger inside.

“J-john, don’t call me kid.” Orange eyes blink at John, then soften and he smiles. Tiny pale arms loop around his neck and tug him close. Three fingers curl and ram into the teen, spreading and stretching him. He’s rocking back on them, moaning and needy.

Very quietly in his ear, John hears a faint, “Dirk.” His head is reeling and he lifts his shaky head to watch Bro’s face. “It’s my name, babe. Classified secret.” That little tidbit of knowledge makes his heart swell and bubble over. Twining his legs around a narrow, gold waist he pulls him close and they just hold each other for a minute. Bro’s fingers never stop spreading him, though, and finally John pulls back to lock their lips together. They speed up, and their kiss turns into wet, open collisions of mouth and tongue.

Bro yanks back suddenly, John trying to follow his mouth. “Di-iiirk!” His voice pitches into a whine and he hiccups a sob. The Texan tugs his fingers out of the boys tight entrance, and wipes his hand off on the bedsheets with a grimace. He’s sitting back watching John writhe on the bed, until John sits up, grabs his shoulders, and shoves him backwards. Soft thighs settle on either side of Bro’s hips as the teen arranges himself. Through half-lidded eyes he slathers lube over blonde’s cock. His vision is fuzzy but he can still see it twitch, feel it catch on the ridges between his fingers.

And he’s sliding down slowly, large hands grasping his hips to hold him steady. It hurts, more than he thought it would but he feels so complete and he did not know he had a kink for this. John tilts his head back and mewls, working himself down farther. Bro can feel every jostle, every tug of the hole around him. Taking far longer than either of them cared for, John’s finally resting on Bro’s lap and the Texan’s as far in as he can go.

Slowly at first, John lifts himself off a bit and drops back down. Both of them shudder, John moans high and Bro groans. The next time, when John lift’s up, Bro rolls down a bit then pushes back up as John falls. But it’s too slow and not enough, and John finds himself trapped beneath him again.

Everything’s so much better. Every thrust has Bro hitting that spot inside of John, and his head goes black. He’s talking but it’s just a litany of Oh god- more, please- Dirk! It encourages Bro though, because soon he’s leaning back, hoisting the boy’s legs onto his waist, and slamming into him inhumanly fast.

“Fuck John, I can see it moving.” Bro lets go of one knee- John squeezes harder so it doesn’t fall- and places it on John’s stomach. “Knew you were small, but I didn’t- holy fuck that’s hot.” Through the small pouch of stomach, Bro’s watching the slight ripples of him moving inside. Pressing down, he can feel it and so can John because he’s suddenly wide-eyed and screaming. Begging. How’s he supposed to tell him no?

John can feel everything, and it’s a little too much but he’s so close. Undeniable heat is pooling in his stomach and spreading everywhere. His body tenses around Bro, arms and legs locking and he becomes a vice grip around his erection. White heat rockets through him and his vision disappears, replaced only with feeling and pleasure.

Bro bends down and sinks his teeth into the blue-eyed teens shoulder, and he quakes below him, spilling between their chests. A long, drawn out Fuuuck and Bro’s picking his pace back up, too erratic and uneven. John’s shaking and sobbing in the aftermath of his own orgasm, Bro stoops to kiss the tears away. Scrawny arms hold him down as he continues to pound the boy senseless. Finally, he’s stilling and John can feel teeth in the other side of his neck now, an hot splashes coating him within. He won’t stop rocking in and out, riding out his release until he’s too over-sensitized to continue. It slides out with a slick pop, and John feels a bit of seed bubble out and down his back. Bro leans over him until he can’t, then he’s resting on John’s body and they’re kissing. Their mouths move together, but there’s no urgency or fire, just languid motions. John slaps his chiseled chest, scowling at how sticky it is with sweat, and pushes him off. It was beginning to get hard to breathe with a ton of pure muscle, boneless on his lungs.

They lay together in silence, just the easy noise of them breathing. Bro grabs his shirt and wipes his stomach off, then carefully wipes John off as well, even picking up one leg and cleaning the little bit that had leaked out. He tosses the shirt god knows where, and lays back down with one arm curled over John’s head. The teen curls up on his side and inches closes until they’re pressed together, then props his head on the man’s shoulder and sighs softly.

“This isn’t weird is it? I can go or something...” John giggles but the thought hurts him; he doesn’t want this to be just a one time thing. Relief floods him when Bro smirks and chuckles, slipping his arm around John and rubbing his back gently.

“Nah John, you stay right here with me. Go to sleep, we can shower when you get up.” Stroking lines turn into soothing circles, and a soft hum of contentedness fills the room. John curls a bit tighter, folding himself into Bro’s side, and buries his face in his shoulder.

“Br- Dirk, you know I like you a lot right?” Bro hmms in approval, and pecks John’s head softly through his messy hair. “Li-like a lot, a lot. And uhm, I know I’m a little young for you-” This time Bro swats the small of his back, then gives it an apologetic pat.

“Age doesn’t mean shit and I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks. Just keep your mouth shut and no one will find out.” John nibbles his lip and again, but Bro just catches his jaw and turns him up to look him in the eye. “John, if you like me and want this to potentially be a thing I’m cool with that. I ain’t gunna make you do somethin’ you don’t want to.” His pale cheeks dust red and he nods his head, then nuzzles into Bro’s neck, mumbling into the taut skin there.

“I want this to be a thing. Please.” Bro tightens his arm around John’s waist and pulls him up onto his abs. John watches orange eyes as a hand brushes a few strands of hair out of his face then twist into the ones in the back. He leans forward as the hand tugs him to press a sweet kiss on Bro’s lips, smiling into the contact like a fool.

“Guess we’re a thing then. Now get some sleep, you need it.” His heart stutters and combusts; Bro said they were a thing. They were a thing oh god. A big dumb grin cracks over his face and he’s launching forward into another kiss like a love drunk fool. He guesses he is now. When they pull apart even Bro has this small smile- not a smirk but an actual smile- and John soars. He feels like he’s flying when he wraps around Bro in a sleepy hug and kisses along his chest and collar bone. Bro just runs his fingers through the nest on his head and hums softly until John’s eyes are too heavy to stay open.

Long after John’s fallen asleep, Bro stays awake watching him. The way his eyelashes twitch and flutter on his cheeks, and he subconsciously curls a fist in the sheets like a child, or will turn his head into the warmth radiating off Bro’s chest. He licks his lips in his sleep and will mutter silly things sometimes. He even giggles, and Bro wonders what he could possibly be dreaming about. John’s beautiful and perfect, and until then, he was a thing Bro didn’t even know he wanted. But now he does, he wants everything the teen would give him. Now, he wants to protect and cherish him, keep him safe and buy him anything he desires. But he can’t because they only have three weeks left together until John goes home, all the way back in Washington with his Dad. It’s so far away, it didn’t bother him before but now it’s too far and he wants to steal John. He can’t yet. Soon though, John will come back to him. And in a few years, John will be legal and everything will be okay. It’ll be fine. They’ll be fine. They’ll have all the time in the world someday.


End file.
